Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  Not her mother.

  Not even close.

  A whimper escaped the female, her pain palpable and visible from the metal cuff digging into her ankle.

  Oh, fuck. Stas rushed forward and came to an abrupt stop when the frail woman lifted her head. Clear, sapphire eyes met hers.

  “Well, this is new,” she said, her voice stronger than Stas would have expected. “What game is Jonathan playing at now?”

  Stas gaped at the woman, her striking features and British lilt familiar. But it was the eyes she recognized most. They were the spitting image of Issac’s.

  “Amelia,” she breathed. “You’re alive.”

  And, oh God, he can see this…

  “For today, anyway.” Amelia stretched an arm over her head and winced. Bruises and welts littered her skin, while her face remained unmarred. Someone had recently delivered a beating. A bad one. Jonathan…

  “I’ve got to get you out of here.” Stas checked the hallway for surveillance. No visible cameras anywhere in this area, unlike the others.

  She frowned. Okay, but how would she be able to get Amelia past security?

  And the elevator only moved for Tom’s key card, not hers.

  And that shackle around Amelia’s very swollen ankle appeared to be locked on tightly.

  Stas eyed the thin silver collar around the woman’s neck, as well as the tiny blinking light at the center. Definitely not your typical accessory. Was it a remote-activated device? Would it sound an alarm if she left the building?

  “That’s rich, love.” Amelia extended her legs, revealing more bruising that painted her skin in shades of purple and blue.

  “Jesus.” She looked nothing like the beautiful woman in Owen’s photos. “What the hell did he do to you?”

  Her long, dark lashes blinked once. “He beat me, of course. Are you here to do the same?”

  “No!” Realizing she yelled that, she glanced at the door again and waited to hear voices.

  Still nothing.

  Thank God.

  She didn’t have much time and she needed to think. Except she had no physical way to help Amelia escape.

  Is Issac already on his way here?

  He had to see the footage, right? Assuming the camera was working?

  What if it’s not? The thought chilled her. He’d never believe this without seeing it.

  “Issac thinks you’re dead.” The words sort of spilled from her mouth unceremoniously.

  “Oh, this again? Yes, as I told Jonathan months ago, or maybe that was years ago. Time is a weird thing here. But yes, I have finally come to that conclusion as well. Are we done?”

  “No, I mean he might not believe me when I tell him you’re alive.” She really, really hoped the camera was working. Except that would also mean he’d just seen his sister in this state. “I need to give him something only you would know.”

  Those perceptive blue eyes that were too much like her brother’s looked her up and down. “This is a terrible game. Obviously, I’m not going to fall for this.” She rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “Can we get back to the healing bit now?”

  An odd request, one Stas didn’t have time to clarify. “Look, I don’t know how much time I have.”

  Amelia appeared unfazed, simply rolling her forehead against the wall and groaning to herself. This woman was as stubborn as her brother.

  Shit.

  Okay.

  She needed to give her proof. What had he told her about Amelia that not everyone would know? “Uh, you taught him to dance because it’s the way to win a woman’s heart, but he always told you he had no interest in it.”

  Amelia snapped upright and took Stas’s measure again. “What have you done to my brother?”

  “Nothing. He’s, uh, we’re sort of… No, that’s not important.” She glanced again at the door, terrified they would get caught. “Give me something to tell him.”

  Amelia’s gaze flickered to the wall beside the door. “This is quite dull.”

  Stas grabbed the back of her neck, her limbs shaking from the possibility that someone may catch her here. And then what?

  No.

  She had to make this quick, get out, and tell Issac.

  “I’m risking my life right now standing here. Give me something, Amelia. I’m begging you.”

  The first signs of uncertainty filtered through Amelia’s features, her lips curling down as she tilted her head in an eerie way. “Issac sent you?”

  “It’s complicated and I don’t have time to explain.”

  “Mmm, and he’s all right?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Amelia bit her cheek, her gaze falling to the floor before lifting again. “I miss his blue butterflies, you know.” She traced indistinguishable designs on the wall with her finger, a tear licking a path down her cheek that she didn’t seem to notice. “I dream of them sometimes. Maybe I’ll dream of them again tonight.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “I’m wary of this madness, you see. So very wary.”

  Fuck, what had Jonathan been doing to her all these years? She was so utterly broken. So… fragile.

  Stas resisted the urge to console the woman and instead checked the hallway. Still clear. But she doubted it would be for long. The blue-butterfly line would have to be enough.

  “I have to go,” she told Amelia. “But he’ll come for you. Even if it means burning this place to the ground.”

  “I used to believe that,” Amelia murmured, still drawing aimlessly on the wall. “Then I learned hope only equates to pain.”

  29

  The First Female Sentinel

  Stas sprinted back to the office, Amelia’s parting words a shadow on her soul. Hope only equates to pain. Stas had wanted proof of Issac’s claims; now she more than had it.

  Doctor Fitzgerald was a monster. She may not have seen him beat Amelia, but he’d clearly been the last one in her room.

  Was that why Tom wanted a word? Why he’d been so furious?

  The handle twisted, Doctor Fitzgerald entering with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Minor issue regarding asset management.” He softly closed the door, Tom nowhere to be seen.

  “It’s okay,” Stas managed to say, her throat as dry as the Sahara.

  He smoothed his hand down his dress shirt and sat across from her, his eyes deceptively kind. “Where were we?”

  Her heart jumped, an entirely different question popping into her mind while he spoke. Where were you?

  Does he know I just found Amelia?

  Are there hidden cameras that caught me?

  She swallowed, wiping her palms against her pant leg. He stared at her expectantly, waiting for a reply. What had he asked? Where were we? Right.

  “Um.” She cleared her throat, her voice slightly hoarse. “I, uh, you were talking about a job, I think.”

  She knew from his expression she’d given him the correct response. “Indeed I was. What do you think?”

  I think you’re a sociopath who likes to beat women.

  “Well, it’s a little overwhelming,” she said instead, referring to the job.

  Then an idea occurred to her.

  One that could ensure he let her leave here alive while also potentially allowing her to return to save Amelia.

  Hmm, it was a long shot, but if he agreed, it just might work. She just had to play this right, to stroke his ego and entice him into an arrangement he couldn’t refuse. All while not revealing a single emotion or thought.

  No pressure.

  She cleared her throat again. “But”—Stas forced a smile—“it’s also exciting.”

  Pride radiated from Doctor Fitzgerald’s expression. “It is, isn’t it?”

  Such a masterful façade. Even now, despite everything she knew, a part of her wanted to beam with gratitude, as if he’d trained her to accept and adore his praise.

  A larger part of her wanted to throw up all over his desk.

  His desk.

  Oh, fuck.

>   The card.

  It still sat beside his laptop, Issac’s name proudly displayed on the cardstock paper.

  “Now, Tom just mentioned you met Osiris,” Doctor Fitzgerald continued, curiosity coloring his tone. “I’m afraid that makes it a little more imperative for you to join us. If you become a Sentinel, I can give you certain resources that are not available to civilians—resources that can save your life.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “You can protect me from Osiris?”

  “I can provide you with the ability to guard yourself, yes.”

  “Like weapons?” she guessed.

  “Among other things.” He laced his fingers together on the table again, leaning toward her conspiratorially. “I’m sure Issac has promised to keep you safe, but his way would involve taking on immortality. Am I right?”

  Not in the way you think, she thought while nodding.

  “That’s a big decision. Are you ready to make it?”

  Well, at least on this she could answer honestly. Because no, she absolutely was not ready for immortality. “No.”

  His head bobbed as if he expected that response. “Well, joining my team would grant you an opportunity to explore the supernatural world in its entirety before you decide whether or not to join it.” He settled back in his chair. “With the added bonuses of learning how to defend yourself with weapons and via other supernatural means.”

  Runes, she realized. He’s talking about runes.

  “You know, since the first day I met you, I suspected you were destined for greatness,” he added, his charisma on full display. “That’s why I recommended you to Brandon down in marketing. But now, I’ll admit, I’m keener to have you on my team. Assuming you’re up for it, of course.”

  A clever way of pretending she had a choice in the matter when they both knew she didn’t. Stas suspected refusing would result in something uncomfortable, such as her death.

  Yet, looking at her mentor now, she’d never suspect it. He had an air of eagerness and sincerity to him that masked the evil lurking beneath his skin. Because only a sadistic bastard could leave Amelia in that condition down the hall.

  “What do you think?” he prompted when she remained quiet for too long.

  “When would I start?” she asked, needing time to work out her plan. It would take the right wording, a way for him to think it was his own idea all along.

  “Well, given the Osiris situation, I would say as soon as possible. I can talk to the marketing team on your behalf, save you from any hard feelings.”

  Yes, her boss would be slightly disappointed. Not that she’d been an all-star employee this last week, what with forgetting to call Human Resources back and all that.

  “I would appreciate that,” she admitted. After everything she’d learned, she never wanted to work with the CRF again, but that didn’t mean she disliked her boss. Chances were he had no clue of the company’s sinister purpose.

  “Then it’s settled? I mean, assuming my team approves, but I don’t see why they wouldn’t agree.”

  She forced herself to hold his gaze. “There’s just one thing.”

  “Oh?”

  She pursed her lips, needing to phrase this the right way without sounding too eager or conniving. “I don’t want to end things with Issac.”

  That sent both of Doctor Fitzgerald’s eyebrows into his hairline. “You care about him more than this opportunity? Even after the video?”

  “God no, nothing like that.” A blatant lie. “But I think there might be an opportunity here.”

  He studied her for a long moment, his thumb stroking the stubble dotting his jaw. “What kind of opportunity?”

  Curiosity piqued? Check.

  “Well, he already took me to a Conclave, right? Imagine what else he might show me. Unless you already have someone on the inside of Ichorian society feeding you information?”

  “You want to be a double agent,” he translated.

  More like a triple agent. “Maybe. I don’t think I’m phrasing this right.” She pretended to consider, needing him to speak the idea for himself. “I’m just wondering if we could somehow recruit him, or if I could use my connection to him to somehow further the CRF. Honestly, I don’t know what all you need, so feel free to tell me I’m way off base.” But I know I’m not.

  He continued rubbing his chin, his interest evident. “This could place you in a precarious situation.”

  She snorted. “I’m already in one, thanks to Issac.”

  He flashed her a knowing grin. “Thirsty for revenge?”

  “You have no idea.” Vengeance for Amelia, possibly for Owen. Fuck, the card. How was she going to get that back without Doctor Fitzgerald noticing?

  He considered. “Do you really think he could be of use to us?”

  “Issac?” she asked. “Yes. Yes, I do.” Another idea formed, an impulsive one that she jumped on without considering the alternatives. “Look at that.” She glanced pointedly at the card.

  Doctor Fitzgerald frowned at the item, picking it up to study it. “Where did this come from?”

  “Uh…” She feigned a sheepish look, twisting her lips to the side and clasping her hands in her lap. “Yeah, I may have tossed that at your desk while you were gone. He gave it to me earlier, telling me to use it after our meeting. And, well, after seeing the video, I was a little annoyed. There wasn’t anything else of his to throw, so…” She trailed off with a shrug.

  He gave her a look before turning over the card to read Issac’s scrawl. “What’s the code for?”

  “His security alarm.” One Issac would need to change after today. “He wants me to meet him back at his condo.”

  Doctor Fitzgerald’s eyebrows shot up again. “His personal residence off Chambers Street, or one of his guest suites on the same floor?”

  “He has guest suites?” she asked, actually curious. “I think I’ve only stayed in his penthouse.” As far as she knew, anyway. All his suits and books were there. That made it his personal space, right?

  “Did it have a formal dining area? Balconies overlooking the Hudson?”

  She nodded. “It’s, uh, impressive, yes.” Understatement.

  “That’s his condo, not one of the guest suites.” He whistled and set the card down. “He really is quite taken with you, isn’t he?”

  “Sure. Enough to try to poison me, apparently.”

  Doctor Fitzgerald chuckled. “I’m guessing he just wanted to test your bloodline before investing the time.” He shrugged, his entire demeanor changing. “Honestly, it’s pretty common practice, if a bit archaic.”

  Uh-huh. “Well, regardless, I’m not all that pleased with him at the moment. Still, I think he could be useful.” She dangled the bait and waited, hoping he would bite.

  Stas couldn’t save Amelia on her own, but Issac might be able to with access to the right resources. This would hopefully open the door he needed to proceed, or a way around the runes.

  And she would help him every step of the way.

  “Do you think he might be interested in working with us?” Doctor Fitzgerald asked, his voice sending a tingle down her spine.

  Someone is using a gift.

  She frowned, unnerved by the sensation. It had to be him. But what was he trying to do? Why didn’t I ask Issac about Jonathan’s talent?

  Swallowing, she focused on his query and how to reply. “With the right motivation, I think we could convince him. But it won’t be something he accepts overnight.”

  “And you think you can convince him?”

  “I’d like to try,” she replied. “When he explained the CRF to me, he wasn’t negative. If anything, he sounded impressed.” In a dark “I want to kill Jonathan” sort of way, but she didn’t mention that part.

  “Did he?” Doctor Fitzgerald sounded surprised. “I’ve just assumed him to be uninterested all these years.”

  “Perhaps he wasn’t presented with the right opportunity,” she suggested. Such as the motive to kill you and free his
sister.

  Her former mentor nodded, his gaze taking on a dreamlike quality. “He could bring a lot to the table.”

  Blood.

  Torture.

  Murder.

  Death.

  Yep.

  “All right, Stas. You’ve intrigued me. The relationship can remain for now while you either siphon information from Issac or potentially recruit him.” He smiled. “These things take time, so as long as you’re up for the task, I see no problems with it.”

  “Oh, I’m up for it,” she assured. And hopefully, Issac would be, too. Unless, of course, Mateo gathered everything he needed from the hard drive. Were the immortals on their way here now?

  What if they want me to stall?

  Several Minutes Earlier

  “I’m in,” Mateo announced, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

  “Thank fuck for that,” Issac replied, running his fingers through his hair. They were all standing in his study, where Mateo had set up shop about an hour ago.

  Aidan stood beside the oversized desk, his hands tucked into his pockets, gaze vibrant, while Tristan entertained Clara and Anya in the living area. Nadia lounged on a corner chaise, her long legs crossed at the ankles, her attention on her phone rather than the task at hand.

  Rows of data scrolled before them, too fast for Issac to catch, but Aidan seemed to be reading it all with ease, his brow furrowing with each passing second.

  “What is it?” Issac asked, recognizing the lines of concern etching a path into his maker’s features.

  “The files appear truncated.” He continued reading, his brow furrowing. “It’s like someone placed a bunch of file names with cover sheets in the system while removing the bulk. Do you see that, Mateo?”

  “I’m still downloading,” he replied, focused on the computer. “But yeah, it feels incomplete.”

  “Meaning your plan didn’t work?” Issac couldn’t help the note of censure in his tone, his concern for Astasiya’s well-being fraying his nerves. However, their last glimpse from her camera showed her safe and sound. He took it as a good sign that Jonathan hadn’t immediately apprehended her.